Wednesday, December 8th, 4:00 PM

“If the anomaly is due to a chromosome issue, we call it a chromosomal abnormality. These types of anomalies may result from the presence of an extra chromosome in one of the pairs, or from the absence of a chromosome in a pair (monosomy). Sometimes it’s only a part of a chromosome that’s missing or duplicated. To identify these chromosomal anomalies, several tests may be prescribed depending on the case. Can anyone tell me which ones? Miss Ossey?”

All eyes turned to Angela, seated in the front row, diligently taking notes on everything her medical genetics professor said. Angela straightened up.

“Uh… among the tests we can carry out, there’s FISH analysis (fluorescent in situ hybridization) or chromosomal microarray analysis (CMA),” she replied.

“Very good,” said the young teacher in her Ivorian accent. “A karyotype can also be done. You’ll find the definitions of all the tests in the PDF I had sent to you.”

Angela stopped listening to the rest; she quickly jotted down what she found essential. After her lunch with James, she had returned to class just a few minutes before the professor arrived. It was only their second lesson with her, but Angela already liked her.

She had a straightforward way of teaching, and sometimes, she was even funny. But most of the time, Miss Kouamé stayed focused on the concepts she wanted her students to grasp. Angela wondered how old she must’ve been to already be teaching at a university. Miss Kouamé had mentioned the previous week that she was a geneticist.

“We didn’t see you yesterday,” said a voice. Angela turned to her left. The person who had spoken was a 19-year-old student with cultural scarifications on her cheeks just beneath her eyes, and a gap between her two upper incisors. Her name was Grâce. Angela tried to smile at her.

“I couldn’t make it,” she replied. “I had a visitor. Did it go well?”

The girl shot her a stunned look.
“You’re serious right now? You haven’t heard?”

“Heard about what?” Miss Kouamé was still going on, speaking in a steady stream. Angela wanted to focus on her class, but curiosity got the better of her.

“The orgy, obviously. The party ended badly. That crazy guy wrote about it in his article. Thankfully, the site got taken down. It wouldn’t have been good PR for the school.”

Angela looked troubled. An orgy? Like the ones she’d seen in adult films? How could that even happen? Why would a party end like that?

“And you were there?” Angela asked, curious.
“Yeah, obviously. But I left early—I had a stomachache…”
“Good thing,” Angela murmured.
“Yeah, I know. From what people said, it got kind of twisted. But others seemed to enjoy themselves. Loads of my friends skipped class this morning because of the party. And the guy who killed himself? He was there too.”
“Joseph?” Grâce nodded vigorously.
“None of it makes any sense. I’m telling you.”

Angela grew pensive as Grâce refocused on the lecture. She hadn’t known there was an orgy. And to think—she had almost gone, if William hadn’t shown up. She had wanted to accept Ben’s invitation. He’d been acting strangely since this morning. Had he taken part in that? Probably. What could’ve driven them to do such things? So many questions spun in her head.

“Thanks for keeping me from doing something crazy, Jesus,” she whispered. She leaned back over her notebook and tried to pick up the thread of the lecture. Her first weeks on campus had gone by without any major events. Her routine had been simple: home to school and back. With a few outings with James and weekends spent in Cotonou. She often used those weekends to go to church with her brother William. Speaking of William, she wondered if he’d made it back home safely. He hadn’t messaged her.

She grabbed her phone and sent him a text. While she was at it, she read a message from her other brother, Freddy:
“Hey traitor! So you’re sneaking around with the doctor, huh? I know everything. He told me about the fish. The grilled fish! How could you two pull such a lousy stunt without me? If he’d told me, I would’ve come along. I’ll never forgive you. P.S. You’re invited this weekend.”

Angela burst into laughter and clapped her hand over her mouth to stifle it. Her brother always knew how to lift her spirits with his jokes. When Angela’s eyes met her professor’s disapproving gaze from behind her glasses, she quickly put her phone away and pretended to write. She promised herself she’d reply to Freddy after class.

That little episode over, Angela thought again about what Grâce had said. There had been an orgy at Ben’s place. Then there was that Isabelle who had refused to shake William’s hand. Everything was so strange. The whole school seemed engulfed in darkness. Angela could sense it just by looking at the students’ faces. It was like everyone was searching for the light, without being able to say it.
Can’t wait to meet Horel. I want to hear what he has to say.

***

5:30 p.m.
Horel left his class earlier than expected. The drawing teacher had dismissed them after three hours because he had an important appointment to keep. Horel thought it was perfect timing. He’d have enough time to go back, change, and meet the others in the garden. The meeting he’d been waiting for so many months was finally about to happen.

He wasn’t really sure what he was supposed to talk about tonight. Should he tell them everything? Everything he knew? Were they ready to hear the truth? Horel walked silently toward his cabin. Several departments were just getting out of class at that hour. Horel glanced around and was suddenly overcome with deep compassion for those souls.

He was pulled from his thoughts by a voice calling out from a distance. Turning around, he saw a slightly chubby student in a brown “Data Scientist” uniform running toward him. Florent Koutchi, Horel’s roommate, was completely out of breath when he finally reached him.

— “Man, you walk fast,” he panted. “I thought I was gonna die.”
Horel gave him an amused look.
— “You alright? You should really get back into working out, man.”
— “Oh stop it,” replied Florent between gasps. “Don’t start again. Is that what your Jesus wants? I prefer when you talk about God instead of exercise.”
— “Physical exercise is important too,” said Horel, resuming his walk.
Florent caught up with him.
— “You’re right, I should work out. But not because you say so.”
— “Yeah, I know. So, when do we start? I want to help you.”
Florent raised a suspicious eyebrow.
— “Is this to spy on me? To make sure I don’t skip workouts? I don’t trust you. I’ll manage on my own.”
— “Okay, suit yourself.”
— “Actually… let’s do it together. Maybe it’ll motivate me.”
Horel sighed. They’d been sharing the same cabin for a year now. He was used to Florent changing his mind every three seconds.

— “By the way,” Florent continued, “weren’t you supposed to finish at 6?”
— “Yeah, but we got out early. Gives me time to run a few errands. I’m going out tonight and I might be back a bit late.”
Florent grinned slyly.
— “Ah, so the gentleman finally has a girlfriend. What’s her name? I want all the details. Her major? Is she on campus? Fabulous. That makes it even more fun.”
— “Calm down,” said Horel with a smile. “It’s not about a girl. I’m meeting up with some friends.”
— “Will there be girls?”

— “Yes.”
— “I knew it!” Florent exclaimed. “You’re making plans without your day-one bro. I’m the one who suffers through your endless prayer nights, and now you want to go have fun without me?”
— “When I pray at night, you don’t even hear me,” Horel said, giving him a sideways glance. “And when I need to pray out loud, I go outside. Anyway, tonight’s not a regular meet-up. I’ve got something important to take care of.”
— “Do I know them? The people you’re meeting?”
— “Not really, but you will soon, don’t worry.”
— “Hmm, sure… Oh by the way, remember that girl Anita I told you about? The one I met in Cotonou?”
— “Yeah?”
— “I think she’s playing me.”
— “What do you mean?”
— “Well, she hasn’t replied to my texts for a while.”
— “How long?”
— “Twenty-four hours. But I still see her online.”
— “Twenty-four hours isn’t that long. Did you have a fight or something?”
— “A little argument, nothing serious. Still, that’s no reason to ghost me.”
— “No, not really.”

They reached their dorm and climbed the stairs two at a time. Florent kept complaining about how his girlfriend thought he was cheating on her.

— “And you’re not?” Horel asked as he unlocked the door.
— “Dude, I’m not really cheating on her. She’s the one I love. The others are just… you know, for passing time.”
— “Passing time,” Horel repeated thoughtfully. “What does love mean to you, then?”
Florent seemed thrown off by the question.
— “Love? What do you mean, what is love? Everybody knows what love is.”
— “Then answer me.” They entered the cabin, and Horel closed the door.
— “Love is love, man!” Florent replied, annoyed. “I like her, that’s it. I enjoy her company. I like spending time with her. But you wouldn’t understand—celibate priest that you are.”
Horel burst out laughing.
— “Celibate priest? I’ve never even been to seminary. I plan to get married. Probably before you do.”
— “Sure…”
— “There are three types of love,” Horel said absent-mindedly. “There’s Eros, the love of physical desire and attraction. Then there’s Phileo, the natural, human love we often practice without realizing it—love between friends or siblings. It’s the easiest to express. You give, you share, with those you care about.”
— “And the last one?”
— “The last is Agape love,” Horel said, sitting on his bed. “Agape is divine, unconditional love. It’s love inspired by God. It’s selfless. When you love this way, you don’t keep score. You don’t do it for gain. That’s the kind of love Jesus preached, you know? He didn’t hesitate to die for people who rejected Him. He had nothing to gain from it.”
— “Well, he gained a religion,” Florent replied dryly. “Now he’s famous. Two thousand years later, some guy named Horel is still bugging his roommate with Jesus talk.”
Horel laughed heartily.
— “Maybe he gained a religion. But Jesus didn’t come to create a religion. I’ve always told you that. Christianity is a human invention. The term ‘Christian’ wasn’t coined by Christ’s followers—it was given to them by the people of Antioch. Jesus was anti-religion in his time. He was a reformer. Religion keeps people in chains.”

Throughout His life, Jesus distanced Himself from the religious institution. In many ways, He opposed it. He offered a new way of thinking: salvation doesn’t come from rituals or sacrifices, but from a direct relationship with Christ.

— “What Jesus and his disciples taught was a lifestyle. That’s why He said: ‘He who loves me is the one who keeps my commandments.’ And He added: ‘My commandments are not burdensome.’ Religion imposes heavy laws.”
— “I see.”
— “Jesus taught a way of living—a more humanist life than people think. A life based on love for others and for God, equality among genders, brotherhood, women’s empowerment, social justice, freedom of choice, nonviolence, separation of spiritual and temporal powers… Yes, He touched on all that during His ministry.”
Florent rolled his eyes. He was out of comebacks.
— “Despite His critics,” Horel continued, “many historians and philosophers now agree that Christ’s teachings, 2,000 years ago, reshaped the world and helped inspire moral codes and the Universal Declaration of Human Rights. Now, back to agape love…”
— “Oh no, please,” Florent groaned. “I get it. We’re supposed to love like God does. Enough said.”
Horel smiled and shook his head.
— “Alright, I’ll let you be. I need to get ready for my meeting. And as for your girlfriend in Cotonou, try to go talk to her in person. You’ll find out what’s going on. And no foolishness over there.”
Horel gave him a knowing wink, and Florent gave a distracted nod.

***

Hubert Koffi

“Numbered, counted, weighed, divided.” That has nothing to do with the story I want to tell you, but I heard that phrase somewhere and I really like it. I even printed it out and stuck it on my wall. You see, I’ve been at this school for four years now. At first, I was just like any other student. I came here to study, nothing more… But today, I’ve become the most well-known student at UST.

Unfortunately, not in a good way.
Although, personally, I kind of like the label they’ve given me—”Hubert the Conspiracy Theorist.” Not bad, right? It means I don’t have to justify my actions… or my writings.

Anyway, I wasn’t always a “conspiracy theorist.” I originally came to UST to study industrial electricity and IT.

After getting my high school diploma in Togo, my dad told me about this school that supposedly welcomed “geniuses.” Did I mention my dad is a member of parliament? He’s a politician. He used to work at the Togolese embassy in Germany. That’s where he met my mom. She’s German. So if you’re wondering about my skin tone—yes, I’m mixed race.

The most famous mixed-race student at UST.
Mom wanted me to study physics in Germany. But dad insisted I come to Benin. One of his friends praised this school, and apparently UST degrees are becoming more and more valued internationally.

As for me, I had always dreamed of moving to Benin. I know it sounds strange—choosing Benin when I could have gone to Germany. But actually, there’s a love story behind it. My first and only love was a Beninese girl: Stella. Beautiful girl. We met during the break between 9th and 10th grade. Our relationship lasted two years. She was one grade ahead of me, and she left after graduation. Things went downhill after that. I came to Benin hoping to find her again.

I hope you don’t mind these little digressions in the story. There will be plenty of them. After all, it’s my story—I’ll tell it my way.

In fact, I don’t want to tell this story without mentioning some details. Not because they’re necessarily essential to the plot, but because they help bring certain moments back to life. I relive the good times of my life. Before all this began.

Anyway, I ended up in Benin in September 2018 and moved into UST.
Once again, my parents disagreed on where I should live. Mom wanted me to stay in a villa she would pay for every month. But Dad wanted to toughen me up. He insisted I share a cabin with a total stranger. Said it would teach me social life and build character. And I didn’t object. I was a quiet, obedient boy back then…

This text is an extract from the book “SENTINELS: FIRST WATCHTOWER” written by Charles SANDAH. 

We invite you to read the following article “THE NIGHT OF THE ORGY“.

THE CONSPIRACY THEORIST. THE CONSPIRACY THEORIST. THE CONSPIRACY THEORIST. THE CONSPIRACY THEORIST. THE CONSPIRACY THEORIST. THE CONSPIRACY THEORIST. THE CONSPIRACY THEORIST. THE CONSPIRACY THEORIST.